


Marshmallows

by philsdrill



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Crying, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Phan - Freeform, Phan Fluff, Phandom - Freeform, Phanfiction, Sad, pet death, phanfic, phanfluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 02:38:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14761004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philsdrill/pseuds/philsdrill
Summary: Phil is a little upset after hearing some bad news and Dan comforts him.





	Marshmallows

**Author's Note:**

> If you happen to have read this before, I posted this in February 2017 on tumblr. Also if anyone's interested in following me on tumblr - I'm more active on there and there's more fics - you can find me at [philsdrill](https://philsdrill.tumblr.com).

**Dan's POV:**

It had been half an hour since Phil had gone off to his room to take a phone call from his mum, and I was starting to wonder where he’d got to. Now Phil was one for lengthy conversations with his family, but I hadn’t heard his voice for at least fifteen minutes.

I knew I shouldn’t be, but I was concerned. I had a niggle that something was wrong, but like most niggles, I’m sure it was only that. To ease my own mind, I got up from the sofa and wandered down the hall to check on him. I got to Phil’s door, but there was no talking to be heard. I listened a little more carefully, and something caught my attention. I couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like Phil was… crying?

Phil wasn’t generally one to cry. Was he okay? Had an elderly relative or someone died? Should I check he was okay, or should I leave him in peace. Another, louder, sob pulled at my heartstrings, and I decided I’d have to check on him.

I knocked on the door and voiced his name, “Phil? Are you okay?”

There was a strangely long silence, followed by a couple of sniffs, then Phil spoke up, “I.. umm… my mum told me some bad news and I’m feeling sad.”

“Can I come in?” I asked him.

“Okay,” Phil said slowly, his voice catching on the second syllable and making his despair more evident.

I slowly pushed open the door and made my way into Phil’s room, shutting it over again behind me. Phil was curled up on his bed, with his face half buried in a pillow.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked Phil, grabbing the tissue box from his bedside table and sitting down next to him.

“Steven died…” Phil said, choking on another sob, “The family goldfish we got when I was fourteen.”

“Awww,” I said, running my hand up and down his back to try and comfort him, “I’m sorry.”

Phil began to cry uncontrollably for about a minute, and there wasn’t much I could do to help. I stayed sitting cross-legged by his side, rubbing his back, and murmuring the odd comforting thing to him.

His crying began to calm down a little, so I suggested he sat up and blew his nose. I handed him some tissues as he sat up, supporting himself on the headboard and my side. Phil tossed the used tissues to the side when he was done and nuzzled the top of his head into my shoulder. I turned slightly and gently wrapped my arms around him, bringing him closer.

Phil cried a little more as I held him, but he started to calm down. The hug was warm, and I knew that hugs felt safe when the world was a scary place. I’d found myself in Phil’s arms a number of times in the past, and thanked him for being such a good friend and giving me the consolation I needed. Today, it was Phil who was feeling down, and it came to me naturally to comfort him and give him a hug.

When Phil eventually felt a little better, I brought him to the kitchen with me and made him a hot chocolate with marshmallows. There was nothing Phil loved more than sugary snacks, marshmallows having a particular place in his heart. By the time he’d finished his hot drink, a smile had appeared in place of his miserable expression, the happy crinkle slowly returning to the corners of his eyes.

Phil thanked me, and told me that he felt a little better. It would take him a little longer to get over the loss of his goldfish, but now that the initial shock was out of his system, he would be able to process the loss in his own time. I would give him as many hugs and marshmallows as he needed to get through this. Despite the soft aura that his loveable personality gave him, Phil Lester was a strong guy, and he would get through this. Marshmallows may be soft and fluffy, but they are stronger than you think.


End file.
